


The Art of Deceit

by clarissa_writes



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Amnesia, Dark Steve, Dark Steve Rogers, Dark!Steve Rogers - Freeform, Don’t copy to another site, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Manipulation, Smut, amnesic reader, crazy steve - Freeform, dub-con, steve finds you with amnesia and somehow convinces you, you were married
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-30
Updated: 2019-09-30
Packaged: 2020-11-07 23:54:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20825906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clarissa_writes/pseuds/clarissa_writes
Summary: Steve finds you lost and without memory of your past.It was only right he took care of you.He was your husband, after all.Right?





	The Art of Deceit

Steve doesn’t know what compelled him to do it.

He doesn’t know why he thought it was okay or why he had these urges in the first place, but in his head, he knew you were better off with him than someone else who would undoubtedly take advantage of you. You were safer with him. You were _safest _with him. He was doing you a favor.

He was doing what he was supposed to do.

He was helping you.

* * *

It was over eight months ago when he found you. He had been heading home after a battle, exhausted, tired and aching from the bruises and hits he took. Another alien invasion had occurred, it was a smaller scale one but there were still a number of casualties. He wanted nothing more than to lie down in his bed and sleep the week away.

Even if technically, his cuts and bruises would be gone by the next day courtesy of the serum, he was still exhausted. 

He’d long since moved from the Compound. He found himself a nice little secluded place into the country side where neighbors weren't found in the next five or six miles. It was his little slice of heaven. Being away from people, having his own little place especially with Bucky still under. Still, he couldn’t help but feel like something was missing.

And as much as he hated when Natasha kept bringing up the idea of dating, Steve knew he longed for a partner. For someone to come home to. He just didn’t think he’d find someone. Not in this day and age.

He was almost home when he caught sight of you. You, walking down the road limping and looking out of it. He only saw your back, <strike>he ignored the fact your curves reminded him of the dames in his time, the dames he never had a shot at getting before the serum </strike> but from the way you were swaying he knew you were close to passing out. 

And you did.

He jumped off of his bike, running toward you the minute your body slumped to the ground. Gently, he turned you over and for a moment, he stopped breathing. You were so damn beautiful. Gorgeous. Even with your hair a mess, skin slightly dirty from dirt, and small cuts from who knows what, you were without a doubt, the prettiest dame he’s ever seen.

He had no idea what to do. He tried shaking you, calling out to you, but you were too far gone and the hospital was miles and miles away. So he did the next best thing.

He brought you home.

It was definitely the fact that he was close by and that he didnt want to risk hurting you that he didn’t use the bike and instead, walked home carrying you. It definitely wasnt because he loved how small, warm and pliant you felt in his arms.

He tried not to notice how your breasts pressed into the hard muscles of his chest. Or how your hair faintly smelled of a wonderful fusion of coconut and lavender. He ignored the ache in his chest that demanded him to keep you this close. 

He ignored all those urges until he finally got home.

Steve was so careful in laying you down in his bed. He had a perfectly unused spare bedroom but for some reason, the idea didn’t sit well with him. The idea of leaving you alone was completely out of the picture. 

You had slept for a total of sixteen hours before you finally woke up.

Steve thought his heart stopped when he first saw you, but now? Now that you opened those pretty eyes of yours and looked at him? 

He was sure he was seeing an angel.

“Hi, Doll.”

He whispered, sitting by her side and caressing her cheek affectionately.

“You okay?”

She slowly blinked, something Steve thought was so adorable and continued to stare at him. There was no hint of recognition. No trace of panic in being in an unfamiliar place with an unfamiliar man <strike>something Steve refused to admit that made him puff up with approva</strike>l.

No, you simply laid there.

Pliant, calm and observing.

“Can you tell me what happened to you?”

You stared at the blonde man, eyelids heavy and lips a little pursed. You tried to think back, to recall what you last remembered, but nothing. You didnt know. So you blinked up at him, unaware how much deeper you were pulling Steve into the darkness.

The darkness he had yet to realize was there in the first place.

“You don't know?”

He asked.

A shrug.

Your response was enough to alarm him that you possibly suffered a concussion. The bump on your head worried him, but you seemed fine and internally, he was scared that if he brought you to a hospital then there would be no need for him and you'd be on your way without ever thinking of him again.

And he couldn't have that. So he nods, stroking your cheek little more and damn well grins when your nuzzle into his touch. The beast inside him rumbles with approval. Satisfaction fills him to the brim when you shut your eyes, breathing softly as you lean into his hand.

You felt safe with him.

You liked him.

Later that day when he had brought you something to eat, he realized your muscles were too weak. You couldn’t lift your hand, much less stand by yourself, so he fed you. Each time he lifted a spoonful of soup to your plump lips, you obediently opened your mouth and ate. 

He was almost transfixed in a way.

The world needed Captain America.

But you? You needed Steve Rogers.

Maybe that's the moment it truly started. Maybe that’s what intertwined your fate to his. 

Steve was determined to help you. To help you regain yourself. At least, until you had your memories back. Days became weeks and weeks became months. Everyday you ate together, you slept in the same bed, you cuddled up to him when he sat at the couch and Steve was afraid to admit that he had never been happier. You never discussed what happened. He never brought it up.The simplicity of the domestic life had reeled him in and had him addicted. The way you ran your hand through his hair?

The way you snuggled into him at night?

God, it was everything he wanted and more.

He thought he was perfectly content with this. Perfectly happy with the way things were. Then one day, you asked him something. You were snuggling into him, head resting on his shoulder with you settling on his lap. Steve had wrapped his arms around you as you watched a movie. Something about some boy getting sucked into a portal and going to the past.

You looked at him, thought for a moment and asked him,

“Who were you to me?”

You normally didn't ask questions.

In fact, you hardly talked for the first few weeks, but gradually, the more time you spent with him, the more you trusted him, the more you talked. As for your memories, you didn’t know anything. Nothing but your first name. And now, you began to ask questions.

He doesn't know why he did it.

But he lied.

“Your husband.”

The minute he said it, he nearly regretted it. He hated lying. Was never good at it and it never sat well with him, but for some odd reason it felt right to. And you stared at him in a way that looked as if you saw him in a different light. Because since he’s your husband, he has to know everything about you. So you asked him. You asked him everything about you. Your likes, dislikes, hobbies...

And he lied, each and every time.

He groomed you to be what he always wanted.

You just didn’t know it.

Steve couldnt find it in himself to feel guilty. He was helping you. He was finally happy. And when he finished telling you of the story of how you met, you had smiled so beautifully and hadn't hesitated to lean forward and kiss him.

Suddenly, he felt as if he was back in the 40s and was suffering from an asthma attack.

That kiss cemented his firm belief that he did the right thing.

From that day forth, the nature of your relationship changed.

There were kisses; a variety of them.

Chaste kisses, cheek kisses, lip kisses, neck kisses, kisses that went down south.

And then there was the sex.

The first day he had you, he could've sworn he had died and gone to heaven because your body was simply made for him. Your sexual compatibility had been through the roof. You took him so well, matched his stamina and had liked it a little rough. 

He had explained the nature of his job to you. He admitted to being a hero, someone who saved people and explained that sometimes he had to go away for a mission. The reunion was always the best part.

But the one thing he could never get over was the “I love you”’s. 

Every I love you that slipped from his lips or yours, filled his heart with a lightness he thought he lost long ago. He figures you really are an angel. An angel that was sent to him for all the work and good he’s done for the world.

He figures this was an exchange.

And honestly? He couldn’t find it in himself to be upset.

-Back to Present-

_“Good job on the mission, Captain.”_

Steve blinked himself out of his thoughts to see Sharon standing there with a small smile on her face. He was quick to return her smile, trying to push his thoughts in the back of his mind. The less he thought of you, the better. It wasn’t good to get distracted. He’d find himself itching to get home to you all day if he gave in to his thoughts. 

For now, at least.

“You saved a lot of lives.”

Sharon said, looking around Steve’s office, taking note of the subtle changes he’s made since her last visit. Steve actually added picture frames on the walls. All from the Howling Commandos, a few of the Avengers as a whole, some more recent ones from the Compound and one of her Aunt with Howard Stark. 

But the biggest change of all was not what was added.

But what was missing.

The lone frame that always had a spot on the right corner of his desk was missing. The frame that had Peggy’s photo. Now, it hung along with the many others on the wall.

Sharon couldn't help but think this was a signal of Steve finally moving on. That he’s made peace with their lost chance and was ready to move forward with someone else. With her.

“You must be exhausted.”

She adds, stepping closer. It took everything inside Steve not to recoil. The mood shifted, the tension rose and suddenly, Steve found himself missing you all over again. Steve merely shrugs, looking at her straight on,

“It’s part of the job.”

Sharon didn’t let his indifference faze her. 

“Listen, Steve. I was thinking about getting something to eat-”

“I have to go.”

He plastered a smile on his face though no matter how hard he tried not to look it, it was obviously forced. He gets up, gathering his mission report and tucking them inside the folder. 

“You were right about being exhausted. I’m gonna go first and get some rest.”

Sharon straightens up, a red flush on her cheeks as she nods briskly. She doesn't say anything more when Steve brushes past her without another word.

-

Steve tries not to be too excited.

But he fails.

Miserably.

After saying quick goodbye’s to Tony and the others, he was practically sprinting back to his bike. He couldn’t withhold his excitement in seeing you. This was by far his favorite part of the day: coming home to you. Not getting some rest, a full cycle of sleep, not even the comfort of being home would beat the feeling of being in your arms. 

Bucky and Sam had often called him out on it, saying he had to be keeping some girl locked up and hidden away for him to be rushing home all the time.

He'd call them a bunch’a jerks and laugh along with them.

They didnt know how close they were to being right though.

The drive to his safe house was smooth. It was almost two in the morning so hardly anyone drove by his street. Parking, he swung his leg off his bike after switching the ignition off and headed home. Shutting the front door close, he shrugged off his jacket, placed his shield on the mantel and made his way to his room.

Your room.

The room you shared.

He’s quiet when he slips in, but nothing prepared him for the sight he’d see. He should be used to it by now. This is what he always comes home to but yet he finds himself reacting the same way every time. His heart nearly startled to a stop when he sees you curled up in bed, his pillow in your arms with your pretty pink silk nightgown dipping low on your cleavage. 

He felt his cock twitch with interest.

Slowly, he dipped one knee into the mattress, carefully moving over you until he was caging you under him. He had both his knees on either side of you. Steve leaned forward, his lips kissing at your shoulder, up your neck before gently nipping at your earlobe.

You murmured sleepily, wiggling into him until your ass brushed against his bulge. Steve groaned from the back of his throat, dipping his head into the crook of your neck and bit at the skin.

You awoke with a cry, eyes frantically moving to find the source but your panic quickly washes away when you see Steve. You smile, sleepiness drained away when you lunge at him, arms wrapped around his neck as you nuzzled into his chest,

“I missed you so much, Stevie.”

Steve chuckled, hugging you just as tight as he planted a kiss to your forehead.

“I missed you too, Doll.”

Steve doesn’t know what compelled him to do it.

What compelled him to lie.

But he does know one thing.

He sure as hell doesn't regret it.


End file.
